Losing the War
by adVENTitiious
Summary: Grimmjow Jaegerjacques is sent to Karakura town under the strict instructions to sway Ichigo Kurosaki to their side, by whatever means necessary. Grimmjow has his own plans, but they aren't necessarily more noble. Yaoi. -GrimmIchi.
1. Prologue

**Losing the War**

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Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

Author's Note: First off, I'd like to thank **LoupEtoile** for betaing this for me. You're the best! MWUAH! Second, please note, if I do add to the story the material will undoubtedly earn its M rating. Haha. I just can't help myself.

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**~Prologue~**

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_I'm dying. _Ichigo Kurosaki's jaw clenched at the depressing thought. Maybe this was better though. He was losing it. Today's battle only confirmed it as he lay on the ground, his zanpakuto resting uselessly a few feet out of reach as he glared into unfathomably deep blue eyes. No, they weren't deep, he corrected himself sharply as he breathed raggedly, the Espada's hits well placed as he felt warm liquid running down his sides, making his clothes stick to him, clinging to his flesh as if it could hold his spirit in place.

If only it weren't doing the exact opposite.

The head above him cocked to the side curiously as his gaze remained trained on him solely with those eyes. They were piercing, like everything else about him, cutting into him and opening him up so that he was looking at himself in a way he'd rather never do. He was exposed. Weak. Helpless as the soul-eating man gazed down at him as if he were a dessert and he was skipping dinner because he looked that good.

"Does it hurt?" The blue-haired man asked almost curiously. "Dying?"

He clenched his eyes shut.

"Fuck you, Jaegerjacques," he gasped out as the man leaned down slowly, shifting his weight effortlessly to the balls of his feet as he struggled to just breathe, his hand reaching out. The same hand that Ichigo had seen run straight through Rukia's chest as if it were the tip of a blade dipping through soft butter. He snarled as the man slowly smiled, his hand hovering just over his jerking chest.

"Don't tempt me," he said in a low voice, his mania from just moments before still there but more honed as if he was focusing all his attention and power to savor the moment when he, Grimmjow Jaegerjacques, would finish Ichigo Kurosaki — and have his soul.

Ichigo heard a harsh laugh escape his own lips. As if there had ever been any question who would win. The number six of the Espada had been toying with him, egging him, trying to tease the power he had been struggling to control out of him. As if his only goal were to watch him implode, destroying himself and everyone else in the process. He was fucking with him, because he knew he wasn't a real threat.

He, Ichigo, fucking substitute Soul Reaper, he had never had a chance in defeating the man before him, because he was too strong and Ichigo couldn't let himself reach that level without losing himself in the process. He had tried, he had tried so hard and the darkness swimming in his outer vision - blocking out the damned moon and its shape that did nothing but to remind him of the blue-haired man leaning over him - was a testament to his weakness. Grimmjow was stronger because he didn't care if he lost himself. He had nothing to lose.

He glared up into the face of the man who would kill him, waiting for the hand to deliver its deathly blow. "Just do it already dammit," he said, his breathing growing more even as his end became more inevitable, a peace settling over him. At least he had succeeded in only taking himself down. He hadn't lost his mind, he had won in a small way.

_Losing the war to win the battle?_ an inner voice asked, spitting the words in disgust as yellow pupils grew, a sneer forming on white lips. _You disgust me. You should have let me take over, I could have won. I can still win. Just give up, _he said, approaching Ichigo slowly.

_No! Go away! Go away!_ he shouted back at the monster in his mind who made him hate himself more than any enemy he had ever fought.

"Who are you talking to in there?" The whispered words jerked brown eyes back into focus. Blue eyes narrowed. "Is it him? Can you see him now, Kurosaki?" he asked in a dangerously smooth tone as his eyes grew more excited. "He likes me, you know? I can tell," he practically purred, his hand making contact with bare skin.

Ichigo gasped as heat flooded his body, making him feel like he was burning alive. He gritted his teeth, waiting for the splayed fingers to sink into his skin and end his existence. He watched as sharp teeth slowly descended and then words carried on a whisper, caressing his ear and then seeping into his brain, grabbing hold with sharp barbs, infecting him, "I'll tell you a little secret though. I prefer you, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Brown eyes shot open. When had he closed them? He shook his head, trying to shake the sentiment from his brain. It wasn't real. "You think my spirit will taste that good?" he asked, his words as sharp as the broken sword by his side.

A soft laugh filled the air and blue eyes pulled back to meet his once more. "Oh, I _know_ it will," he said, his words swimming in a lust that Ichigo had never heard before.

Fingers began to slide, and a choked breath forced its way from his lips. "What are you waiting for then? Do it," he said brusquely, not sure why he was trying to push his soon to be killer's hand. Maybe he had already given up. A dry laugh tore itself from his lips. He was pathetic. Fingers stilled over his struggling heart.

"No, don't think I will."

Brown eyes narrowed. What was he trying to do? Was he messing with his head? Trying to get him to beg? Or maybe he didn't think he was worth killing. Too beneath him. He lifted his arm, the appendage tingling and starting to feel numb and far too heavy and grabbed hold of the hand on his chest.

"_Do it._"

He might have lost, but he deserved a warrior's death. He knew he did. He gritted his teeth at the wide smile hovering above him. "Fucking do it already!"

"No."

The word was said simply, like the blue-haired maniac was refusing to let Ichigo cheat off of him in math or as if he had asked the fucker for a ride home. "Do you want to know why I won't?" he asked, leaning closer, his eyes wide open even as he held himself only inches from his prey.

Ichigo felt himself shaking his head. He didn't know why, but he didn't want to know just at that moment as his breath grew more ragged, his weak pulse speeding up, rushing the inevitable - a death blown by his own weakness. There would be no final hit, his body would just slowly wear itself out.

Fiery lips brushed cooling skin. "Because, I'm not finished with you, I'm not going to do it until you're _mine_."

Ichigo opened his mouth to respond when the lips that had been tracing his cheek captured his lips. He grunted in surprise, his hand tightening around the man's wrist as fingers ran down his side, sliding carefully around his wounds and trailing along sticky skin. He struggled to push him off when a tongue entered his mouth and his eyes fell shut, his body and mind feeling like it had caught on fire. He heard his hollow scream out in rage before disappearing from his mind completely, feeling blissfully alone for the first time in what seemed an eternity.

Curled lips pulled back, leaving inches between their lips. "I knew you'd taste good," he said with a knowing smirk as he looked down at dilated pupils and a flushed face that had only moments ago been as pale as his clothes before spilling Ichigo's blood all over them.

Ichigo stared up at the man in shock and then used the last of his strength to jerk him back down, his tongue invading his mouth angrily. He couldn't just kiss him. He fumed as his tongue pushed forcefully into the mouth filled with sharp-teeth, a gasp being swallowed when unforgiving fingers slid along the final blow the Espada had laid on him, trailing the lines of the deep cut with a caressing touch. He groaned as his body bombarded him with too many feelings that made no sense: agonizing bliss, whisper-soft pain, and a furious need to live; to feel.

He felt suddenly lighter and his heavy eyes opened to see the blue-haired man standing, his chest heaving, his fingers and chest painted in blood that wasn't his own as he leered down at him.

"I'll be back for you, Ichigo," he said simply and then brown eyes fell shut, no longer able to hold themselves open, the whisper of a yell dying on his lips still unformed.

_Grimmjow_.


	2. Chapter 1

**Losing the War**

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Author's Note: Hello again! All right, so the main story is going to be _quite_ a bit different from its prologue as you will see here, and so I ask that you just go with it. Haha. 'Tis what I'm doing. :-P Also, I believe it goes without saying that this is not canon compliant despite me writing it in this universe.

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**~Chapter One~**

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"Can you hear me, Kurosaki-kun?"

Brown eyes opened with a groan to find Orihime Inoue, Ichigo's childhood friend, leaning over him, a warmth spreading in his chest that was becoming far too familiar. He was being healed. He closed his eyes tightly as unpleasant memories bombarded him. That was right, he had lost. Badly. And then to top things off he had _kissed _the arrancar he was supposed to be fighting. A ragged laugh escaped humorlessly from cracked lips.

"Shhh, try not to move too much," the red-head said as she focused on healing his many wounds.

"Sorry," Ichigo croaked. What had he been thinking earlier? At the time he had just been furious that the Espada had taken such liberties with him. But now… now he was just certain he was insane - kissing a hollow? There had to be something very wrong with that. Hadn't there?

He looked around at the solemn group as his friend continued to work on his wounds, her work lit only by the moon hanging heavily above them as he laid on the roof of some building. They were all there: Sado, Rukia, Renji, Ikkaku, Torshiro and Rangiku. They had all survived their battles. Although he had technically only survived because the blue-haired demon named Grimmjow Jaegerjacques had seen fit to spare his life.

He closed his eyes, partially from relief but mostly from the turbulent emotions roaring more angrily in his chest the stronger he grew. He could still remember when Renji had found him, the seasoned Soul Reaper had told him that it was only a loss if he was dead. He wondered what the fiery red-head would have said if he had told him the whole truth; that he was pretty sure the Espada had only left him alive because he wanted to mess around with him first, and all of the blood loss had been a restricting factor at the time.

He laughed again. No one had told him that hollows had libidos.

"Ichigo?"

"Yeah Rukia?' he asked as he looked up at the raven-haired Soul Reaper leaned over him, her gaze trained on him.

"You should rest," she said quietly.

He nodded slowly and closed his eyes, trying to focus on relaxing the muscles that Orihime was working intently on knitting back together.

* * *

Blue hair, bluer eyes, high cheekbones, full lips. Sharp teeth that were somehow making his heart skip to a funny beat inside his chest as if it were afraid they would rip it to shreds but a little more scared that they might not.

"How much do you want me, Kurosaki Ichigo?" The words murmured in a deep voice that rumbled the hard floor beneath him. "I want to hear you say it."

A needy groan escaped parted lips and short breaths punctuated the otherwise silent room. "So fucking much." Hands slid up over smooth skin that conformed to sinuous muscles that lay underneath and stopped to grab hold of baby blue locks, pulling back with a sharp tug to accentuate a solid jawline even further as neck muscles flexed beautifully.

"Fuck, I like it rough. We're going to have _so_ much fun together."

* * *

Ichigo shot up in his bed. He gasped for air, his skin covered in a cold sweat as blood pumped furiously through his veins to his entire body, particularly between his legs. He groaned and let his face drop into the palms of his hands, trying to scrub the dream from his mind. No not a dream. A nightmare. He pushed down his blankets and pulled off his shirt, feeling way too hot in his usually cool room.

"Shit." He dropped back down, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to will his racing pulse to slow and his body to calm down. _It wasn't real, it was just a dream_, he insisted to his misfiring brain that was sending all the wrong signals to his confused body. He took in a calming breath and closed his eyes. Just a dream.

* * *

Ichigo trudged down the busy hallways of his school, his hands stuffed into his pockets and his bag hanging over his shoulder carelessly, the usual spring in his step gone. Not that it had been an overly springy walk to begin with, but it was the principle of it. It was definitely flatter. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to scrub away the seemingly permanent fog clouding his thoughts. He just needed to get a good night's rest; then maybe he'd feel some better.

_Sleep_, he scoffed mentally at the dwindling pastime. It was nothing but a distant memory since he and his friends had faced off with the arrancars for the first time. At least any sleep that wasn't filled with disturbing images and feelings. Feelings that were just _not_ right.

He adjusted his collar uncomfortably and forced a smile at a pretty girl in his class who had lifted a hand in greeting. He lowered his head, averting his gaze quickly after the silent interaction, picking up his step when she slowed down. He really wasn't in the mood to politely fend off unwanted attention.

"_Ichigo_!" Keigo Asano shouted as he ran at a mad sprint towards him, stopping just short of attacking him as he usually would, or at least trying to attack him. He squinted his eyes, studying his friend carefully. "Are you sick?"

The orange-haired boy shook his head and continued to walk towards their first class of the day. "No, just tired. Long weekend," he said to the boy who he had been friends with ever since he had started school.

"_Weekend_? Ichigo, you were gone _most_ of the week too, it's Friday!" the dark-haired boy shouted by his side, an incredulous edge to his words. "What happened? I called your house, but your dad just said you were probably at Sado's, but I checked and you _weren't_!"

"Please don't yell, Keigo, I have a headache." Ichigo closed his eyes slowly, a soft groan escaping his lips. Friday? Had he really been home that long? Why hadn't anyone said anything to him? Even Rukia who was usually quick to shout at him and tell him exactly what was on her mind had been somewhat different with him lately, hanging back and shooting him odd looks when she thought he wasn't looking. What was going on?

"Sorry, listen," his friend started in a more appropriate level. "We're going out tonight. You and me. You've been _way_ too busy with those new students, and Sado is coming too. He agreed this morning on the way to school. So…. you're in right? Tell me you're in."

The orange-haired boy looked over at his friend, opening his mouth to turn him down when he noticed a hopeful look gracing his features. He really hadn't been around much with everything, and maybe he could use some time away from the Soul Reapers. Maybe then he could forget about the blue-haired Espada who had seemingly left Hueco Mundo to live in his nightmares instead. No wonder he had let him live, he was planning on driving him insane first. Torture then death. It actually made a lot of sense now that he thought about it. He would definitely peg the arrancar as one for the dramatic going off their short interaction-

"Ichigo?"

"Huh?" he looked over, Keigo's call having pulled him from his morbid musings. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, stopping in front of their first class of the day and glancing in to see Rukia and the others already in there and looking at him expectantly. He pulled him back away from the doorway, nodding reluctantly. "All right. Just us."

"Great!" the dark-haired boy shouted, slinging an arm around his shoulder, seemingly forgetting about his headache. "We're going to this new dance club. It'll be so much fun!"

Ichigo grimaced, rubbing at his temples as he walked in the room with his friend talking loudly in his ear.

* * *

"Wow, look at this place!" Keigo shouted over the thumping beat, his words not matching his mouth as the lights flashed at a dizzying pace. He held a red-colored drink in his hand that he was clearly not old enough to be drinking. "Isn't it something?"

Ichigo ran a hand up into his wild hair and nodded in somewhat of a daze. He had definitely been with the Soul Reapers too much, he felt completely out of sync with the crowd's vibe, most of the patrons around his age or a little older as they moved exuberantly to the music looking as if they didn't have a care in the world. Well, other than getting into the pants of whomever they were grinding up against, he amended. He shook his head. It was only a little after nine and all he wanted to do was go home and lie down. "Where's Chad?"

"He couldn't make it after all," his friend said, taking a drink and looking indifferent to their friend's absence. "Come on," he said, waving his glass in the air around excitedly. "You gotta admit, this is something!" he said again but with more enthusiasm as if he were trying to infuse some of it into his lackluster friend.

"It's definitely something," Ichigo muttered to himself as he scanned the unfamiliar room. The club had high ceilings, the windows all blacked out and walls painted black with neon splashes of color that glew fluorescent under the flashing black lights. There was a DJ's booth in the far back corner, the man inside of it working away diligently, bobbing his head to the beat as the crowd outside cheered him on, and most of the space was a dance floor except for the small area where they were standing by a bar. He frowned as he began to notice a trend, his gaze shifting sharply from one couple to the next. Not all, but a _lot_ of the couples were both guys. He looked over at his friend in bewilderment. "Keigo, this is a-"

"No it's not!" the boy shouted back, cutting him off and shaking his head with a vengeance. "It's just a special thing they're doing this weekend." He smiled widely. "I thought this might be more your _speed_," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as orange eyebrows shot up under an equally orange fringe.

Ichigo opened his mouth to either deny his friend's insinuation or let loose a line of expletives—he hadn't quite decided yet—when a tap on his shoulder stopped him. He frowned and turned around sharply. "Listen here, I'm not-"

He was stopped short for the third time that night, this time though the interruption was due to a pair of unfathomably deep blue eyes that were set four inches higher than his own chocolate brown ones. He blinked, the vision before him the same when his eyes reopened. It couldn't be, he must be seeing things. There was absolutely _no fucking way_.

"Not what? A good dancer?" the tall, icy blue-haired man asked in a silky smooth voice as he shocked Ichigo with a wide grin, his words taunting and eyes dancing with unrestrained excitement. He licked his lips, his gaze running up and down the stunned boy's body before taking a step closer and saying in a lower voice, "That's okay, I can teach you."

Ichigo stood frozen, shock holding him firmly in place with its paralyzing grip as he stared up at the assumed Espada, his mind racing. He looked just like him. It had to be him. His mind unhelpfully supplied some flashes from his most recent dream that starred the grinning blue-haired man for the sake of comparison. Brown eyes narrowed accusingly, and he spat out, "_You_."

Lips curled back to reveal perfectly straight white teeth that were not inappropriately sharp, excepting a set of impressive canines.

"Me," the man countered simply, shoving his hands into grey pants pockets and pushing up onto his toes before rocking back onto his heels, somehow managing to look more polished by the casual action.

Grey pants? Ichigo blinked. His eyes scanned the man's attire with a new awareness, seeing his outfit for the first time. The bastard was wearing regular human clothes; black sneakers, charcoal colored slacks and of all things - a fitted blue shirt that was a couple shades darker than his eyes and several more than his hair. "_What_ are you doing in those clothes?" he demanded sharply. "And how the _hell_ have you been getting into my dreams?"

A boisterous laugh filled the air. "My, you're quite the aggressive flirter, aren't you?" His smile darkened, blue eyebrows arching in a devilish curve. "I _like_ it." He reached out a hand in offering, palm up. "Would you like to dance?"

"No, I don't want to _fucking_ _dance_!" Ichigo shouted, growing more upset by the second as he struggled to decide if he should just leap out of his body in the crowded area. Someone might call an ambulance if he just dropped in the middle of the club, and he and Keigo weren't technically supposed to be in there, and as of now the arrancar wasn't attempting to attack any of the people around them—He growled in frustration as he tried to figure out the best course of action. He didn't want to make things worse. He took a step closer, his voice a growl as he spoke, "What the hell is your angle? You think you can just walk up to me and ask-"

"_Ichigo_!"

The orange-haired boy turned to his friend standing beside him with a look of surprise etched on his features, having forgotten he could hear him. He must think he was crazy talking to apparently no one.

His friend shot him a look of bemused disapproval. "Just go fucking dance with the guy. What's wrong with you?"

Ichigo glanced back over at the Espada - who was grinning, his eyes dancing with unspoken amusement - and then back at his friend. He raised a hand slowly, pointing a finger hesitantly at the blue-haired man. "You can - you can see him?"

Keigo's eyebrows furrowed as he nodded slowly, shooting his friend a look oddly somewhere between concern and suspicion. "Yeah... Why _wouldn't_ I be able to see him?"

Ichigo frowned. He looked back at the man, studying him again. _Shit_. Maybe he wasn't the hollow. His gaze dropped suddenly to the man's torso, looking for but not finding a dip in his lower abdomen where he would have expected there to be nor did he feel any significant spiritual pressure coming off of him. Odd.

His hand reached out seemingly of its own accord and pulled the blue shirt up to reveal a very tone stomach. His gaze drifted down, following along tapering muscle lines to find completely unblemished skin that dipped under a pair of low slung slacks, the rest hidden from view. It was gone. "Where'd it go? How did-"

"Looking for something?"

Ichigo started at the teasing words, his gaze shifting up to meet highly amused eyes with another emotion swimming in them that made him swallow hard as he still gripped a handful of soft, blue material tightly in his fist. "Ah..."

The man let out a husky laugh. "Maybe you should look _lower,_" he offered helpfully, his eyebrows raising in a suggestive manner.

Ichigo looked back down—_Oh_—his hand quickly released the man's shirt as if it had burned him, the material dropping and doing its intended job of covering washboard abs from view once more. It wasn't him; he was losing it. He had just molested a stranger in a dance club and had said some very odd things to him to top it off. A very attractive stranger at that.

He took a step back, a hand running up to rub at the back of his neck, heat having rushed to the surface as embarrassment finally settled in comfortably, clearly thinking its stay would be substantial. He shook his head. "Sorry, I'm _so_ sorry about that. I thought you were someone else," he stammered, looking away.

"I'll tell you what... I'll let it slide - on _one_ condition." Ichigo looked back up. "Since you're clearly not a dancer, have a drink with me."

* * *

"So how many blue-haired guys do you know?"

Ichigo took the offered glass from the man standing before him, his fingers brushing his and making him regret his actions even further as his pulse began to pound in earnest at the simple touch. Why did he even want to talk to him after all that? He shook his head. "Only one," he said, leaning in slightly to make his voice heard over the loud music.

The man nodded and took a drink, raising his eyebrows in expectation until Ichigo mimicked him, taking a sip of his own. "You two have a thing?"

Brown eyes widened. "_Hell no_! I - I mean. No." He frowned and cursed himself as the man chuckled beside him for the umpteenth time that night. It was official, he was a spaz. Ichigo Kurosaki: spaz extraordinaire. He looked down into his drink forlornly.

"Sorry. I just figured since you said you'd been dreaming about him and then the shirt..."

Ichigo resisted facepalming. It just got worse. He looked up at the guy, surprised to find familiar-looking blue tattoo markings edging his eyes. Had those been there before? "What did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't," the man said matter-of-factly and then shifted closer, setting his mostly-full drink on the bar as his other hand reached out to rest on Ichigo's side. He grasped tightly, eliciting a hitched breath from surprised lips, his other hand finding the opposite side. "I haven't seen you here before, I'd remember."

Ichigo shook his head, trying to clear his mind as his body responded far too eagerly to the resting hands. He forced out a response. "I've never been here before, this isn't really my thing."

"I would have never guessed," he said, a crooked smile making itself known as he looked down at Ichigo and pulled him closer until their chests were just touching, his pupils almost taking over the blue of his eyes as he continued in a deep silky voice, "Why don't we get out of here then."

"Yeah?" Ichigo asked, his voice suddenly rough and breathing uneven as his mind struggled to retain normal functioning. He couldn't just leave with him. He didn't even know the guy's name or how old he was for that matter, he clearly was a few years older than him - at least.

"_Yeah_."

Thumbs hooked under the hem of his white shirt and began to rub gently across the skin right above his pants line, leaving trails of blazing heat in their wake that sunk in before traveling in a southwardly direction. _Fuck_. He would get more details later. He found himself nodding. "What'd you have in mind?"

A smile slowly crept up the corners of the tall man's lips, a gleam in his eye as he leaned down to whisper softly in Ichigo's ear.


	3. Chapter 2

**Losing The War**

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Author's Note: Hello. So, I merged the last two chapters for flow. This is the new chapter two. Sorry for any confusion. This is my first GrimmIchi, please stick with me as I am still trying to find my footing in this crazy world. I swear it won't take long, I am a quick learner. Hehe. Enjoy.

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**~Chapter 2~**

* * *

_Somewhere private. _The whispered suggestion was still taunting Ichigo and making his pulse race even as he walked alongside the blue-haired man at a casual pace down the busy street. He wasn't innocent, he had kissed and... done _other_ things. But not with anyone so attractive as the guy he had just met, and definitely not after only knowing them only a few minutes. He glanced over and found himself staring. Well, maybe one, but he didn't count the hollow. The resemblance really was uncanny.

He was at least six foot, if not taller, his shocking blue hair was styled back away from his striking features; piercing blue eyes, high cheekbones and a lethal jawbone. He could be his twin. Ichigo held back a groan; that shouldn't be a good thing. What was he doing going off with a clone of one of his enemies? Was he that desperate to actually make out with the Espada? No. No, he just needed to get him out of his head so he could get some sleep. And this would help. Maybe.

Ichigo's thoughts came to a halt when his shoes suddenly hit softer ground, and he realized they had begun to make their way silently away from the street lights and crowds and down towards the quiet river's edge, the sky above them filled with a full display of the stars and moon, the slight breeze ruffling at his wild hair in an idle fashion with no clouds to push across the inky black sky.

He watched as the taller man sat down at the shore's edge and then laid back into the grass with his arms spread out by his sides, grinning up at him and looking every bit like the hollow when he had been knocked from the sky - except for the clothes.. and blood. He looked away.

"Aren't you going to join me - Ichigo?"

Ichigo felt his mouth go dry at the sound of his name rolling smoothly from the man's lips, his voice deep and edged with a teasing sound that roughened it just enough to make his breath catch in his throat. It was the first time he had spoken since the club, and hearing it clearly without the loud music and shouts of people around them he could tell—Without a doubt—his voice sounded the same too.

"I won't bite," the man teased, his smile growing and disagreeing with his words.

Ichigo sat down hesitantly, leaving at least a foot of space between them as he realized just how wrong this all was.

"Tell me about him."

Ichigo looked over. "What?"

The man laughed, rolling onto his side and pushing up onto one elbow. "The guy you thought I was, the one you're thinking about."

Ichigo let out a begrudging sigh and dropped back into the soft grass, not bothering to deny his thoughts. "There's not much to say. He's crazy, a complete maniac... and he's stalking me I think."

"In your _dreams_? Sounds like you might just have a thing for him."

"The _hell_ I do!" Ichigo sat up quickly. This had been a bad idea. A very bad idea. He started to stand when a hand grabbed his arm, holding him in place, the man shifting closer to him.

"Fuck, you're adorable when you're mad." The words whispered as the space between them seemed to shrink.

Ichigo found himself trapped in blue eyes, a hand reaching up and grasping the back of his neck as his lips gravitated towards the smirking mouth. "I'm not adorable."

A huff of a laugh escaped the man's lips. "Okay. Sexy. Is that better?" he asked, leaning closer until their lips were almost touching. "You're fucking sexy as hell."

Ichigo swallowed hard and found himself leaning in and pressing his lips against the man's. His eyes fell shut and his lips parted, his tongue sliding out. He felt the hand tighten on his neck, and he ran his hands up into blue locks that had been torturing his needy fingertips since he had first seen them. This would help. It had to. He opened his mouth wider, tilting his head to the side as a talented tongue flicked into his mouth. The taste familiar and filling his mind with unbidden thoughts of the Espada. He groaned, partially from frustration but mostly because hot fingers that had slid up his shirt were just then trailing along a scar that ran down his right side, the end of it dipping below his pants. "A-ah."

"That's a nice scar you have," the blue-haired man murmured against his mouth as his fingers teasingly traced the soft skin just under his boxers. A smile played on his lips. "How'd you get it?"

Ichigo tried to think as his racing pulse and heavy breathing filled his thoughts only to be joined with flashes of blue, bare skin, taunting words, painful pleasure, rough hands but whisper-soft fingers. _Grimmjow_.

* * *

"Ichigo. Earth to Ichigo!"

Ichigo let out a surprised noise of pain, rubbing his reddening cheek as he looked up at a hostile face filled with tattoos. "What the hell, Renji?" he growled, shoving the Soul Reaper out of his face as well as slapping range. "Why did you hit me?"

"You wouldn't answer me," the red-head replied with an unapologetic shrug before dropping down beside Ichigo and joining him under a tree at lunch time. "What were you thinking about? Your _hot date_ from the other night?" he asked with a knowing grin, nicking an apple from his plate and taking a big bite.

Ichigo closed his eyes, leaning his head against the trunk of the tree and holding back a groan. "Who told you?"

"I did." The happy concession was followed by a giggle. "Rukia told me about it this morning on the way to school. Did you get lucky?"

Ichigo shook his head, opening his eyes to find Rangiku sitting down across from him, her long legs stretched out in front of her as she wiggled her bare toes in front of him, shoes sitting abandoned in the grass beside her. "How did _Rukia_ find out?" He hadn't told her. He hadn't told anyone.

Renji and Rangiku sat quietly, both shooting him looks somewhere between disappointment and utter disbelief. Ichigo let out a loud groan. Of course. "That _bastard_. I'm going to kill Keigo!"

"I'll do it for you," Ikkaku offered, sitting down on Ichigo's other side and picking up the unopened juice box from his lunch tray. He pushed the straw into the hole and took a long sip as he watched Ichigo's face grow increasingly dark. He opened his mouth, letting the straw fall from his lips. "Why didn't you tell us you were gay?"

Ichigo's eyes widened, his chin dropping open. "_What_?" he heard himself ask. He really was going to murder his ex-friend. He had not planned on coming out to the group of Soul Reapers any time soon, if at all. They didn't need to know about his personal life. Hell, he still hadn't told his family, and Keigo only knew because had guessed.

Renji leaned in, wrapping an arm around Ichigo's shoulders as Ikkaku laughed boisterously by his side. "Don't worry Ichigo, we won't tell anyone," he said quietly, his tone conspiratorial.

"Yeah, we'll keep your little secret," Ikkaku said with a wink, shooting him a shark grin. "Athough, if you really do want to keep it quiet, cuddling with Renji in the middle of school might not be the best idea."

Renji's arm dropped from Ichigo as he jumped up. "Cuddling? I don't fucking _cuddle_. Take it back, Madarame!"

Ichigo looked back down at his tray as Ikkaku pushed himself up, his wooden sword already out as he squared himself in front of the angry red head, Rangiku watching on in amusement.

"Why don't you make me, Abarai?"

Ichigo studied his picked over plate as the rest of his night replayed in his mind. He had jumped up after being hit by the unwanted feelings of deja vu from his dreams, mumbling some pathetic excuse about curfew and leaving the attractive man in the grass without a second glance. What had he been thinking? He had left without getting his number or even saying goodbye. And _curfew_? He rested his face in his hands. He would never see him again he was sure, the thought making him feel exponentially worse.

* * *

"The last tenant left rather abruptly." Uncomfortable laughter filled the brightly lit and air-conditioned apartment. "If you need, we can remove the furniture so you can move your own in." A pause. "Ah, Gaeger-"

"Jaegerjacques," Grimmjow said shortly, correcting the too talkative realtor before she could butcher his name another time. He scanned the small but upscale apartment. The furniture looked new, an oversized black leather sofa and matching chair sat in the living room on top of a plush white rug that partially covered large dark wooden planks. The hardwood floors ran into the dining/kitchen area and contrasted the off white cabinetry and white marble countertops. It was nicer than being in Las Noches, that's all that mattered. Even if it was only temporary.

He clenched and unclenched his left fist unconsciously, the muscles in his arm flexing as he did, the movement and feeling from his lost appendage soothing his mind. He would have to thank Ichimaru for getting him in contact with the odd shinigami named Urahara, he would miss the Gigai sorely when he was finished here.

"No, the furniture is fine, I won't be here long." He looked over, the blonde realtor shooting him a flirtatious look back, he resisted rolling his eyes. He had found the week since he had been in Karakura town that women were far too interested in him, he wondered if he'd had to suffer with that when he had been alive.

"I see. Well then, if you are indeed interested, we can set up a monthly lease as we discussed earlier. I have the paperwork with me right here." The woman set a folder down on the island, opening it for him to look at it.

Grimmjow hummed indecisively as he walked over to one of the oversized windows in the living room area and looked down onto the road, his gaze trained and waiting.

"What brings you here if I might ask? Business-" She paused and then hedged in a playful tone, "or pleasure?"

"Both." He smiled, cool blue eyes focusing sharply as a familiar head of vibrant orange hair came into view and began to cross the street at a jog's pace, moving unknowingly closer to him.

The arrancar had chosen the apartment building after finding out a few days before that it was right along the shinigami's trek to and from school. His gaze narrowed suddenly when he noticed another set of colorful locks following along with him, a little too closely. It was one of the other Soul Reapers. His jaw clenched tightly when the red-head slung an arm around Ichigo's shoulders, pulling him closer to whisper something in his ear, the two boys laughing together afterward in a secretive fashion.

"I'll take it," he said through clenched teeth, not caring that his words had sounded like a growl as he shoved the window up and open. He leaned out with a forced grin as his insides churned with an indiscernible feeling that made him want to jump out of the four-story window and attack the grinning red-head below. "Oi, Ichigo!"

Surprised brown eyes shot up to meet his gaze.


	4. Chapter 3

**Losing The War**

* * *

Author's Note: Hello! So, I've just finished up my monster-of-a-story that was taking up _all_ my time and mental energy, and so I am back and hopefully this story will really start to pick up. I tend to update weekly, and with no other consuming works (really), I'm thinking updates will be frequent(ish) on this. So please review, so I can get to know you all and hear your thoughts and just overall work myself into a writing frenzy. Haha. And most of all...

Enjoy!

* * *

**~Chapter 3~**

* * *

Ichigo found himself looking up at a grinning blue-haired man. He couldn't believe it. He had just been thinking he'd never see him again, and there he was, leaning out of an apartment window only a few blocks from his house. "Hey..." he paused, frowning when he realized he still didn't know his name but not wanting to admit it in front of the red-head standing by his side.

Grimmjow leaned over further, blue eyebrows lifted. "School uniform, huh, _Ichigo_?" he asked, tone playful, his smile growing when the boy looked down abruptly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Kurosaki was shy, something he would have never expected from their fight, but ever since their first interaction in the bar, the substitute Soul Reaper was constantly toeing the line between angry-in-your-face-I'm a shinigami dammit-I'll-cut-you-open and shy-I'm-still-a-virgin-please Grimmjow please-take-me. Not that he was complaining, because he wasn't, he liked it. A lot. He adjusted himself discreetly.

Brown eyes flitted back up somewhat hesitantly. Ichigo shifted his bookbag over his shoulder. "So... you live here?" he asked, wanting to tack on 'alone', but cleared his throat instead.

Grimmjow tilted his head to the side, studying the lines of the boy's neck as he looked up at him. Delicious. He licked his lips before answering simply, "For now."

Ichigo found himself nodding at the obscure statement, his eyebrows pinching together slightly at the man's elusiveness. Maybe he was married, or had a significant other, or maybe he was a serial-killer. He shook the ridiculous latter thought from his mind, while making a mental note to check on the two former. Not that it would matter now, because he obviously wasn't interested anymore.

Ichigo forced a smile. "Ah, well, I guess I'll see you around then..." he trailed off, ignoring the disappointment he felt at the man not coming down, or better, asking him up. Of course he wouldn't, he had just pointed out their obvious age gap. _Stupid. So stupid Ichigo_. He made to walk on.

Grimmjow's smile widened as if he could read the orange-hair's thoughts and found them highly amusing. "So do y'want to grab something to eat?" he asked, keeping his tone light and stopping Ichigo in his tracks.

Ichigo resisted looking over at Renji, who had begun making noises of dissent in the back of his throat. He nodded, moving his hand to his wild hair and messing it a bit with agitated fingers. "Yeah sure. What'd you have in mind?" he asked, trying not to sound too eager.

The Espada's eyes flitted down Ichigo's lithe frame. Maybe his soul. "Whatever you want," he said instead, because really it would ruin all the fun he had planned, it would have to wait. "Give me a second, and I'll buzz you up, it's apartment 6."

His dark blue gaze swung over to the red-headed Soul Reaper, whose noises had grown more insistent, hardening when the tattooed boy scowled up at him. He pushed the window down firmly and walked over to the kitchen where the realtor was still waiting, a curious expression on her features. He picked up the pen, signed the two marked lines without hesitation and then handed her the folder.

"If you need any help getting to know the area-"

"No, I've already got someone," he said shortly as he guided the blonde to the front door, shutting the door firmly behind her when the intercom buzzed impatiently on the wall in the entryway. He grinned and waited, letting it buzz a second time before pushing down on the front-door unlock button to let him up, not bothering to say anything into the speaker.

* * *

"Who the _fuck_ was that?" Renji demanded as soon as the window had shut. Ichigo grimaced, not responding, and red eyebrows shot up in realization. "Ichigo, is that - is that the guy you left the club with? He's-"

Ichigo walked off, not paying attention to the Soul Reaper as he scanned the registry at the apartment building's front door. Number 6... Pantera, G. What did the 'G' stand for? He lifted his hand to push the call button.

"_Ichigo_!" A hand reached out and grabbed Ichigo's, stopping him. "You can't go up there! That guy - he has to be ten years older than you, _at least_!"

Ichigo pulled his hand away, staring pointedly at Renji as he pushed the button to apartment 6 firmly. He hated being told what to do. "Watch me," he said dryly.

Renji snarled. "Ichigo, he's _obviously_ a fucking _pervert, _you _can't _be serious." He scrunched up his tattooed eyebrows then, frowning. "And he looks familiar too, like someone I've seen before..."

Ichigo pressed down the button again in response, longer, hoping he would open the front door already before the Soul Reaper made the connection. He didn't need to hear his thoughts on the situation. The door buzzed and then clicked loudly, unlocking, and he grabbed the handle, shooting a disapproving Renji an impish grin over his shoulder as he walked in. "I'll see you later, don't wait for me."

The door clicked shut behind him, and he began to make his way through the upscale lobby, feeling somewhat out of place. He smiled at the doorman in his suit behind the desk to his right as he continued on his way over to the elevator, his mind buzzing as he stepped in, pushing the button for the fourth floor, that claimed apartments 5 and 6. He watched the heavy metal doors close before focusing back on his racing thoughts.

What was his plan? He was going up to a stranger's apartment, and for what? _To fool around, hopefully,_ his mind supplied eagerly. Shit. He closed his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. The man—Pantera?—was no way still interested in him. Was he? He had pointed out his _school_ uniform after all. Although, after that he did invite him up to his apartment, and it was his last year, maybe he didn't care.

The doors slid open with a _ding_, and Ichigo stepped forward in a hurry to run straight into a tall blonde, the woman almost his height in her heels. His hands shot out, catching her when she almost fell back. "Sorry. Sorry, are you okay?"

The woman looked at him in surprise, pulling away and smoothing out her grey dress suit to shoot him a snooty look. "Yes, I'm fine. You should watch where you're going," she said sharply before wrinkling her nose and walking past him.

Ichigo shrugged and made his way to the apartment on the right labelled number 6. He lifted his hand to knock when the door pulled open. His mouth dropped as he found himself greeted by a shirtless torso.

* * *

Grimmjow grinned at the shinigami and then looked up to see the blonde realtor by the elevator door, studying them with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

"My guide," he called quickly over Ichigo's shoulder at the blonde, before she could make another attempt at his name. That wouldn't be good. He winked at her and then took Ichigo by the arm, guiding him into his new apartment before shutting the door and locking it behind them. Didn't want him to escape this time.

He turned around to see the orange-haired boy not so discreetly gaping at him only half-dressed as he stood in his school uniform. He grinned slowly. "Surprised to see me?" he teased.

Ichigo blinked, struggling to gather his thoughts. "I. Yes. I mean... about last week-"

Grimmjow nodded, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and leaning back slightly to flex his stomach muscles as he waited patiently. "Go on."

Ichigo ran a hand up into his mess of hair, rubbing at it, his gaze shooting down to the straining muscles again. "I'm sorry I left like that. I had-" he dropped off.

"Curfew. I _remember_," he said, grinning when a flush ran up the boy's neck as a glint of anger flashed in his eyes. He took a step closer, excitement spurring him on. "Tell me, Ichigo, how old are you exactly?"

Ichigo's anger melted away at the question, his mouth didn't move.

Grimmjow took another step forward, running his hands down the boy's shoulders and over his clothed arms before tugging at his sleeves.

"Eighteen?" he asked softly, smiling when Ichigo shook his head, and began to help him remove the jacket by pulling the sleeves down over his hands. He tossed the piece of clothing onto the floor and then began to play with the top button on his shirt.

"Seventeen?" he asked, his body growing more excited as he began to undo the boy's shirt, his fingers undeterred when he shook his head again but begrudgingly. It didn't matter for what he had planned, if he was old enough to fight as a Soul Reaper and die by his hands he was old enough to be fucked by him. It was only fair.

He grimaced, when there was an unusual tightening in his chest at the thought for some reason. Odd. He ignored it, it must be his Gigai acting up. The real question and his reasoning for asking was to answer another one he couldn't ask, at least not without outing himself; how young the incredibly strong Soul Reaper was, because he was more than impressed with his captain-like powers, not to mention the Hollowish ones he appeared to have too, even if he hadn't mastered them yet. He was intrigued, and Grimmjow was rarely so.

Ichigo laughed roughly, finally speaking up, the blue-haired man's knuckles brushing the skin of his stomach as he worked on the last few buttons to his shirt. "Sixteen, I'm almost seventeen though. My birthday's next week."

Grimmjow nodded in an impressed manner as he undid the final button of the boy's shirt and then said, "Ah, young, just how I like 'em," with a devilish grin, grabbing hold of the boy's unbuttoned white shirt and tugging him closer as Ichigo let out a laugh. He found his grin softening somewhat when arms wrapped around his neck, making a slow breath escape his lips unbidden as he looked down into cinnamon-colored eyes.

"That makes you sound like a pervert, y'know?" Ichigo retorted glibly, looking up with an amused expression.

The hollow nodded as another strange sensation began to whirl inside his chest, isolating to one spot and intensifying. "I'm okay with that," he said in a low quiet voice and then leaned down and captured the boy's lips. He almost felt bad for deceiving him as their mouths moved against each other, soft lips parting obligingly under his own. Almost.

He slid his tongue out and into the shinigami's receptive mouth, his hands sliding down and snaking inside his shirt, touching smooth skin and wrapping around his waist, lifting him up and grinning as legs parted as well, wrapping welcomingly around him. At least they wouldn't have to argue over that.

He took a few steps forward, and then he was pushing him up against a wall. He moved his mouth down to the boy's neck, alternating kissing and licking as he pressed himself firmly between spread legs and causing a pounding to start up in his chest. "I want to fuck you so _bad_," he whispered against delicious skin, a groan falling from parted lips and making the statement even more true.

"Your room... is - is it down there?" Ichigo asked in a rough voice that sent chills down the Espada's back, pointing down the hallway they were standing in.

"Maybe," Grimmjow said, realizing he hadn't even seen it yet. "Let's check and see." He started to laugh as he took a step back to let Ichigo slide down and then realization hit him—There was something pounding in his chest. He blinked, lifting a hand and setting it over the spot, jerking it away in surprise. Yes, there was _definitely_ something moving underneath. Maybe there was something wrong with his Gigai.

"Something wrong?"

The blue-haired hollow looked down to find a hand resting over the area where the thumping was coming from. "No, I, uh-"

"It feels like mine," Ichigo said, lifting the hollow's hand and placing it on his own chest in the same place.

Grimmjow's eyes widened as realization hit him like a bucket of ice water to the face, Ichigo's _heart_ pounding under his touch. _No_. His hand dropped, and he took a step back and then another. It wasn't supposed to do that—His jaw clenched suddenly—He would kill the shop-keeper.

He didn't register the shinigami's words as he turned away and made his way for the door, grabbing his shirt off the couch as he passed.


	5. Chapter 4

**Losing the War**

* * *

Author's Note: Hey guys. So, I'm still trying to find my inner Grimmjow and Ichigo characters here. I like to have a very good grasp on the guys I'm writing, and that takes a while, sometimes a whole story. But hopefully, their personalities will slowly make themselves more concrete and yeah, I'm sure you guys aren't interested in this in the least. Haha. Enjoy the chapter. :-)

* * *

**~Chapter 4~**

* * *

Ichigo stood, his mouth agape and brown eyes wide as he leaned against the wall he had been shoved up against not minutes before. He had just left. One minute they were making out... and then the next, he had just walked off and left him.

The orange-haired teen walked numbly over to the still open door and peered out—the hallway was empty. He made his way over to the windows that overlooked the street, eyes searching until a shock of blue hair caught his gaze directly below, the man presumably named Pantera coming into full view, his back at least, as he strode stiffly down the sidewalk at what might be called an angry speed, shirtless. Ichigo took a step back when the guy turned the corner, clearly not planning on coming back anytime soon.

He ran an agitated hand up into wild orange locks as he searched through their recent interaction to figure out what might have elicited the response. They had been kissing, rather aggressively, and then the guy had mentioned _things_, and Ichigo had asked about his bedroom.

He growled as he walked over to grab his clothes off the floor, pulling on his shirt and then his jacket without bothering with the buttons as his anger only grew alongside a blooming embarrassment in his chest. "What the hell?" he half-shouted to the empty room around him.

The situation was messed up. The guy still hadn't told him his name, and then he just stalked out mid-grope without any explanation. He looked around—and he had left him in his apartment. It was _his_ fucking apartment! Brown eyes narrowed, and Ichigo walked over to the door, shutting it hard behind him and continued on his way to the elevator. Forget that.

* * *

Grimmjow turned the last corner to bring him in sight of Urahara Shop, his hands clenched by his sides and teeth grinding. He shoved the door open, bells clanging, and the wooden door banging against something as he entered. "You!" he barked, pointing down at a young boy with vibrant red hair, who had been sweeping the aisles, but was now watching him instead with wide eyes. "Where is Kisuke?" he demanded.

"I... He's, uh, not in right now, I don't know where he is," the boy said hesitantly, taking a step back.

Grimmjow began to growl, his lips pulling back to show sharper than normal white teeth. He took a measured step forward and then another when the boy backed up at the motion. "Listen here, you little brat, if you don't tell me—"

"Ah, Grimmjow, you're back, I was wondering when I'd see you again."

Dark blue eyes turned slowly to the sing-songy voice and then hardened on the man standing just a few feet away, his hat he was wearing indoors shadowing his eyes. He shifted his body, the thumping in his chest speeding up suddenly and reminding him unnecessarily why he was there.

"What..." he said in a quietly strained voice, closing his eyes for a long moment as he fought to maintain control, and then continuing, "did you do to me?" Grimmjow was a fighter, but he was not an idiot. It would not do to kill the man who had to help him exit his Gigai suit.

The man named Kisuke Urahara tilted his head to the side, remaining quiet for a short beat before saying in a calm tone, "Leave us to talk, Jinta."

The boy looked between them. "What? No! This guy's a-"

"Jinta," the blond man said, still in his calm voice. "You can take your break now with Ururu. Go on." He smiled at the boy, and even began to whistle as he waited for the red-head to take his broom and sulk away angrily. When the front door shut, his whistling cut off. "It's good to see you again, Grimmjow. You're two days late though, remember we had a meeting set up."

Blue eyes narrowed into slits. "_What_ is _wrong_ with this suit?"

The shop keeper took a step closer, not seeming to notice or possibly not care when Grimmjow's muscles flexed threateningly at his nearness. The man hummed thoughtfully, scanning his bare torso and then walking around and doing the same to his back. Fingers wrapped around Grimmjow's left forearm, and the man lifted his arm straight out much to the hollow's surprise and then let it drop back to his side. He circled back around, nodding thoughtfully.

Grimmjow's nostrils flared. _Keep it together._

"Appears in perfect shape to me, what seems to be the problem?" the man asked with a chuckle.

Grimmjow blinked once. "I have a heartbeat."

The man's eyes widened in a show of surprise, but somehow it came across mocking. "Oh? Interesting..." He whipped out a notebook from his pocket and began to scribble on it with a pen he had pulled out of his green and white striped hat. "When did that start?" he asked, his tone taking on a serious quality.

Blue eyebrows furrowed. "Ah, about ten minutes ago."

The shop keeper nodded and made humming noises of assent, scribbling something else on the pad in his hand. "And what were you doing when this occurred?"

Blues eyes narrowed. "Trying to get laid."

The hat slowly tilted up until Grimmjow was met once again by the man's shaded eyes. "Oh?"

"Yes," he said shortly. "Now, _why_ is it there?" He growled when the thumping sped up in his chest, annoying him. He just wanted it to stop already. "Do you have a knife?" He turned to look for one.

"Oh, I wouldn't advise that."

The words had been said calmly enough, but there was a smugness to them that made the Espada stop cold in his tracks. He turned back around slowly, the thumping growing even wilder, like a caged animal trying to break free. "And why not?" he asked, his tone icy.

The shop keeper took a step closer, placed a hand on his bare chest, making blue eyes pop open in a feral way, and then removed it immediately and began to write back on his notepad. "Yes, definitely a heartbeat..." he mumbled, and then scribbled a few more notes before answering nonchalantly, "Because, Jaegerjacques, you are currently a human, or at least in a human state, and if you do that, you will die, meaning you'd have to go through all those painfully long steps to get back to being an Espada, assuming you were even given the chance this time. I'm not certain on that." He snapped his notebook shut at that and then smiled benignly at the man as if he hadn't just told him the worst news possible.

Grimmjow took a step forward. "Human?" The man nodded, Grimmjow gritted his teeth. "Do you think this is some kind of _joke_? You were supposed to equip me with a Gigai so I could win over Kurosaki and bring him back to Las Noches, _that_ was the agreement. How am I supposed to do that if I'm a _human_?" he asked, growing angrier with each word.

"How were you supposed to do it if you weren't human?" the man asked in response, his expression infuriatingly blank.

Grimmjow began to growl. Maybe he would just go ahead and kill him. Fingers clenched into tight fists.

"Bad idea," the man, Kisuke, said as if he knew what he was thinking, turning to the side and leaving himself exposed as he began to search lazily through the drawers of a nearby desk for something. "I am stronger than you, I can leave my body still. _Ah_, found it." He pulled out something with black tubes and a silver circular thing and walked towards him. "Let me show you something. You'll need to stop growling for it."

Grimmjow cut the noise. Why had Gin sent him to this guy, he was a lunatic. Although, why was he surprised? Gin Ichimaru was as crazy as they came. He should have known better than to take any job from him. He clenched his jaw when the shop keeper placed the ends of the tubes into his ears. He started to pull them back out when the man placed the cold silver circle flat against his chest—And then he heard it. His heart. He blinked a few times, the sound oddly soothing unlike the feeling. It almost reminded him of something, something he couldn't quite pinpoint.

Kisuke removed the buds and shot him a pointed look. "Don't you think Kurosaki would notice that missing? And if not, he would have certainly noticed your spiritual signature, I couldn't hide that much pressure in one of my normal Gigai. This was the only option." He motioned at him with a sweeping hand.

Grimmjow cleared his throat as he continued to calm down. "I suppose," he said begrudgingly. He eyed him warily. "You can change me back?"

The man placed the black and silver object back into his drawer and closed it softly before looking back up. "Not quite, I'm working on that right now, but until then I'd suggest you not die or make Kurosaki too mad, because you'll lose in a fight with him as of now." And then the man picked up a black canvas shopping bag from the floor and held it out to him with a smile. "Ichimaru asked me to give this to you."

Grimmjow stood completely rigid. "So you're saying I have _no_ powers right now?"

The man shook his head happily, still holding out the bag. "Not other than your strength, good thing you're a muscular young man, Jaegerjacques."

Grimmjow growled. "I'll kill you."

The shop keeper grinned cheerfully. "Not until you're out of that Gigai though. I'd also recommend avoiding any enemies you might have, I hear arrancars aren't too friendly with each other. Keep a low profile. Without any real spiritual pulse though, that shouldn't be too hard." He glanced down at the offered bag and then back up at him expectantly.

Grimmjow growled again, grabbed the bag and spun around. He stomped towards the exit as the man called out parting words to his back.

"Come back in a week so I can check how your suit is doing, oh, and let me know if you start having emotions, they're those things that make you feel funny if you do something good or bad!"

Grimmjow flipped the man off as he pulled the door open and then slammed it shut behind him. He muttered to himself as he strode down the sidewalk. Heartbeat? Human? _Emotions_? They were plotting against him, he just knew it. Gin and Kisuke, and probably Kaname too - he loathed that blind self-righteous asshole. He should have noticed when he first started having those odd twinges in his chest that something wasn't right, but then again they had really only happened once around—

"Oi! Pantera! _Oi_!"

Grimmjow jerked his head around at the familiar but not happy voice and found himself glaring at a jogging Ichigo. He dropped the expression, schooling himself quickly. Right. The shinigami. He held himself in place as the boy slowed to a quick walk.

"Hey, uh..." Ichigo stopped, his anger suddenly gone as he noticed the still bare-chested and visibly upset blue-haired man before him. He glanced over to where he had first seen him, coming out of Kisuke's store. "Were you just in Urahara's shop?"

Grimmjow let out a heavy breath. He knew he should be doing damage control, but he couldn't quite get it together. "Yep," he said curtly and considered just walking off.

Ichigo frowned, noticing the bag he was holding. "What's that?"

Grimmjow pressed his lips together tightly and then forced out the painfully polite words, "Just some necessities." He smiled, but the look must have been off because Ichigo frowned.

"Is something wrong?" Ichigo asked somewhat hesitantly. "I mean, did I do something to upset you? You left kind of quickly," he said, being rather generous in his opinion. The man had booked it, and to what, to go... shopping?

Grimmjow closed his eyes for a moment, took in a slow breath and let out, finding the action he had always done as a hollow for no apparent reason oddly helpful at that moment. Maybe it was another side effect of the Gigai, because his heartbeat was softening as well. He looked down at the shinigami. "Yeah, I just needed to get something important."

Ichigo stood quietly for a moment and then his eyes widened suddenly, and his expression slowly softened, and he looked down at the sidewalk. "Oh."

Grimmjow frowned as he watched a telling flush run up the boy's neck. And then it hit him. He held back a grin, his dark mood kicked like a bad habit. He must think he meant—"Yeah, you see, I was all out."

Ichigo's gaze flicked back up, and he nodded. "Ah." And then lips quirked to the side. "You could have told me, you just left..."

Grimmjow nodded slowly. His plan to fuck Ichigo then kill him and devour his delicious soul and then return to Las Noches stronger than before to defeat Aizen, or at least die trying, was on hold. Because as of now he was stuck here for an indeterminate amount of time, as a human no less, and none of his plan other than the very first part was still feasible in his condition. And he had a growing suspicion the shop keeper shinigami was _not_ going to help an Espada get back his powers no matter how shady he was.

"So, uh.." Ichigo shifted uncomfortably in front of him. "I need to get home now. My dad has to work late, and my little sisters-

And then a plan began to form in Grimmjow's mind as Ichigo chattered. It was risky, but it might just be his only chance. He took a step closer to the shinigami and grinned down at him, trying for apologetic, and receiving a more hesitant smile in return. "Listen Ichigo, I should really tell you something before we get any closer."

Ichigo nodded and took a step towards him, shrinking the space between them. "All right. What is it?"

"If I tell you, you have to _promise_ you'll let me explain before you react. Okay?"

Ichigo frowned but nodded, looking lost. "Yeah, okay..."

Grimmjow looked down into the bag he was holding to see if there were any weapons or something that might be of use. He pulled out a blue t-shirt and frowned. Was Gin watching him? He tugged it over his head anyway and then crouched down and began to dig through the bag as Ichigo waited.

Ichigo watched the blue-haired man search through his bag from Kisuke's shop, his confusion only growing when he lifted a box of condoms and growled before throwing them back in, muttering something under his breath about checking for surveillance cameras. He glanced around the busy street and then back down at the man. He was lucky he was so incredibly attractive, because he was also a little weird.

Grimmjow gave up after finding nothing of use to defend himself and stood back up. At least they were somewhere public. He looked down into waiting brown eyes and said, "I haven't told you my name yet."

Ichigo didn't respond, a niggling in his chest stopping him from forming coherent thought. He shook his head ever so slightly.

Grimmjow smiled again, his teeth gleaming and setting Ichigo even more on edge as apprehension began to form one clear and very solid thought in his mind, a word. No. No. No no no nono-

"It's Grimmjow Jaegerjacques."


End file.
